Blinded by the Light
by Naela
Summary: Legends speak of a god who was responsible for the sorceress power. Forces obsessed with the myth cause chaos for Garden while Squall and the others must decipher the mysteries of the ancient past in order to prevent the end of the near future.
1. Chapter 1

**Blinded by the Light**

A couple of notes before I start:

1) This is a story that's been kicking around in my head for years. I've been playing some of my favourite games, unsurprisingly FF8 being one of them, and suddenly the urge to write this sprung. So here we are, I really hope you guys can enjoy this fic and lemme tell ya, this is gonna be quite the epic in terms of chapter length.

2) Pairings will be SquallxRinoa, SeiferxQuistis, IrvinexSelphie and ZellxLibraryGirl(Maia). There will be fluffy moments, but this fic is primarily plot driven.

3) Major shout out to InstigateInsanity because he's awesome.

4) Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Square Enix, blah blah blah.

**Prologue**

It was like waking from a dream.

A long, horrible dream that she was tempted to call a nightmare, but there were moments, beautiful moments that brought a secretive smile to her face when she thought back to them. No, not exactly a nightmare, but disturbing enough that she knew it would be months, even years, before she could sleep soundly again.

It'd been a long and exhaustive adventure that seemed surreal in hindsight as she was flung to all parts of the world, to _space_. All of it culminating to a final stand beyond time. Rinoa could easily say that was the point, when they stood on the precipice of the cliff face, staring up at horrid construction that was Ultimecia's castle, when the dream turned into a nightmare. The future had been a place of devastation and lost hope. It'd been so bleak that even the sky was darkened.

She'd seen friends die, nearly died herself and when she thought they'd failed, she'd seen Squall deliver the final blow. The witch's banshee scream thundered into the abyss until she was torn apart by her own unstable magic. The world started to glow as Time righted itself, intensifying until it burned away everything into an utter whiteness.

The first thing that greeted her when she stepped out of Time Compression and back into the present was the blue sky. Stretching from horizon to horizon, so deep and bright and so utterly _blue_ that it made her heart ache. Staring up at that sky, she knew it was over.

A soft wind embraced her, filled with the scent of the sea that made her think of Balamb and inevitably, of Squall. That secretive smile of hers stretched into a grin as her hand clasped the silver rings that hung from her neck. Her other hand reached out, brushing against the colourful petals of the flowers that surrounded her.

"Rinoa!"

Ahead she spotted a spritely figure waving both arms wildly to catch her attention. Rinoa laughed as she sprang forward and caught Selphie in a fierce hug. "It's over!" she cried. "It's finally over!"

Her friends shared her sentiment as they crowded around her to exchange hugs, laughing and cheering, Zell was almost close to tears. Even Quistis, who was usually so reserved, marched straight up to Rinoa and pulled her into a tight embrace. "I can't believe it," Quistis said softly. "We actually did it."

Rinoa laughed, never having felt so overjoyed until she peered over Quistis' shoulder to look around. Her smile wavered as she registered an important fact and levelled her gaze back to Quistis.

"Where's Squall?"

The question was spoken softly, barely audible over the roar of the nearby sea and the early celebrations. Yet the words managed to create a deafening silence as smiles and laughter were exchanged for worried looks.

Rinoa watched her friends with a sinking heart as she whirled around abruptly, searching desperately for a hint of Squall's presence. Perhaps he was simply being his usual stick in the mud self and was standing apart from them or was hiding somewhere. She saw no hint of him.

When the silence became unbearable, it was Quistis who spoke up. "We haven't seen him yet."

Rinoa closed her eyes, letting the sounds of the sea wash over her. When she opened them she turned on her heel and began heading back the way she came. There was a cry behind her, it sounded like Selphie, but it did nothing to deter her until she heard running footsteps. A strong hand grabbed her by the arm and yanked her around.

"Where do you think you're going?" Quistis demanded, gripping her tightly at the elbow. Rinoa could see that the woman already knew, but the rest of her friends who had gathered behind the former instructor appeared confused.

"I'm going back," she replied.

Shaking off Quistis' grip, Rinoa began walking swiftly away from the flower field, but she could hear her friends still scrambling after her.

"Back to Time Compression? Rinoa, that's not possible." It was Irvine who spoke, but there was an uncertain quality to his tone. None of them knew the full extent of her powers.

She smiled, feeling tired. "I've got to try."

Approaching the spot where Time Compression had deposited her, Rinoa's skin began to tingle as she felt the charge in the air though it was already fading. There were only faint threads, but Rinoa managed to grasp them with her magic and began weaving a spell. She was running more on instinct than anything else, knowing that if she was ever pressured to do a spell like this again she would have been at a loss.

Briefly, Rinoa wondered how she knew how to weave this spell and could almost feel the stinging talons of Ultimecia in some part of her memory that was buried with her power. She suppressed a shudder as she let the sorceress memory guide her. The consequences of her abilities were something else she needed to deal with on her own time, but not now.

There was a sharp gasp behind her, and somehow, without her noticing her surroundings had shifted from the bright flower field to a stark and barren landscape. She turned and was unsurprised to see more of the wasteland stretching into the infinite behind her instead of the vibrant fields she'd previously been in.

She also saw that she was alone.

For a moment Rinoa thought she'd done something wrong in her spell, that some malevolent part of her power was responsible for this strange land. It was meant to bring her through time, to find Squall yet all she could see was dust and a thunderous sky. She folded her arms around her, shivering as an angry wind whipped against her, snapping at the folds of her clothes and flinging strands of hair into her eyes.

The air was thick with what she could only describe as despair. She felt it beating down on her like the heat of a desert sun. She forced herself to move, but her legs were lead and the mere effort of taking a simple step seemed tiring to her. All she wanted to do was sit and cry, she was drowning in this place. Rinoa brought a slender hand to touch the silver rings that rested against her chest and drew what comfort she could from them. The rings buzzed at her touch, she felt a spark that jolted through her, stirring her magic to life. It rose through her, bringing strength to her limbs.

Her senses came alive as her magic stretched out and touched the desolate environment. Behind all the gloom, she became aware of something that was like a hum. It was familiar to her, but so new to her power it took her a long moment to realize what she was recognizing.

Time.

Above this lonely place she could feel Time flowing, ever-changing, almost alive. Her location was an island that was floating freely through Time. Lost through Time, she amended. Without the weight of the despair pressing down on her thoughts, she could think clearly. Outside of the constraints of the stable and limited normal world her powers were flaring and with them she sensed him. Squall.

She turned around again, eyes searching desperately for a familiar figure amidst the dust. Her heart sank back into her stomach when her search came away with nothing, but she was certain now that Squall was here somewhere. He was lost and he needed her just like all those times she'd needed him for protection. And to need someone, to be dependent on someone else, would be new territory for him.

Or perhaps this was old and familiar ground for him. The recollection of that suffocating despair, the loneliness, made Rinoa tremble. She held her rings more tightly, using them as the foundation for the shield her magic was weaving around her. Up until recently, isolation and pain were old acquaintances to Squall. These were not her negative emotions, but now that she knew how to look for it, she easily recognized the aura of the place as belonging to Squall. It disappointed her to realize how easily Squall sank back into his old ways.

_Be real, Rinoa. He's not going to change overnight._

Healing took time, she knew and almost laughed as she realized that she was quite literally surrounded by Time. She could feel it now, like a pulsebeat through the universe. It seemed as though it was suffering her presence not because of what she was, a sorceress, but for another reason that was beyond her.

Time, for the moment, was on her side and it was ushering her along. She gave herself to its currents, letting it guide her footsteps as she moved across the landscape still keeping her eyes peeled for a familiar shape. With the shield woven around her, the harsh wind became a gentle breeze, but there was no helping the chill.

Rinoa trudged on, her footsteps stirring up dust. It seemed as though she had walked for hours though she had no idea how to tell the passage of time. Did time really pass where she was? _When_ she was? These were thoughts for the likes of Quistis to tangle with, not her. Time was relative; she remembered that from somewhere, maybe from a book or a from a childhood tutor.

Movement up ahead brought her to a halt. Even from this distance she could recognize its vague shape against the darkened horizon. Her grasp around the rings tightened as she forced her legs to take hurried steps towards the figure despite her growing fatigue. As she drew closer the form became more familiar with the strands of light brown hair, the black leather jacket and those stormy blue eyes that she loved so much.

"Squall!" She ran into his embrace and was pulled close against his chest as his strong arms enfolded her.

She stayed in his arms, washed in his warmth until she pulled away to stare into his eyes. That was when she knew that something was wrong. He looked like him, right down to that scar that cut cleanly from forehead to cheek-even the shade of his eyes were the same. Yet somehow she knew with the same instincts that had been guiding her all along that this person was not Squall.

Even knowing this, Rinoa couldn't bring herself to pull away. This person, this Not Squall, radiated warmth and protection that she wasn't willing to let go. Just being in his very presence seemed to banish the despair, which was why she didn't fight when he lowered his head and met her lips with his. She grew still as that warmth spread into her through that kiss.

And she saw…

_A line of women, that stretched away from her to an unknown point in time all connected by a line of power. Peering closer Rinoa saw that the power seemed to grow more sinister as it passed through each woman until she realized with horror that it ended with her._

_Three figures, one a woman dressed in white, one a man who was a warrior and one a man who was a sage. All bowed with the burden of choice and from the three of them the threads of fate that shaped the past and future._

_A shower of stars that fell from the heavens until she looked closely and saw that these stars were in actuality gods. Fallen from grace they plummeted to the cerulean world below._

_Finally she saw herself, kissing this man, who was Not Squall, but not in the desolate island drifting through time. They were surrounded in crystal and below them were the desperate cries of the dying and wounded._

And just as quickly as the visions came they were gone. Rinoa pulled away from the kiss with a gasp, her mind a whirling storm as she tried to make sense of the barrage of images. She looked up at the man who was Not Squall and he smiled gently as he brushed fingertips across her lips.

"Rinoa," he murmured, speaking with Squall's voice that nearly broke her heart with longing. She closed her eyes only briefly, but when she opened them she saw only wasteland.

He was gone.

Rinoa blinked, looking around, trying to find a trace of him. Her eyes landed on a prone figure lying on the ground before her and her heart leapt into her throat. But just as quickly her excitement died away and she saw that the figure was still. With tentative steps, she approached the motionless form, lowering herself to her knees as she pulled the heavy weight of Squall body towards her.

There was no heat from him at all and the bitter cold was already sapping all of the euphoria from the earlier kiss. Just as she'd known the man from before was Not Squall, she knew that the person in her arms was _her_ Squall. She caressed his cheek and nearly pulled away at how cold it was.

"Squall," she whispered, feeling sting of tears in her eyes.

She struggled only momentarily against the wave of grief until it became unbearable to contain. Heaving a pained sob she buried her head into his chest and that was when she felt the burst of warmth. She looked up in time to see the light vanquish the darkness, washing a familiar flower field in its luminance. It was breath taking to behold and all around she could feel a presence that hovered in the air, seemingly protective, familiar.

"…Rinoa?"

She tore her gaze away from the miracle to witness another as she stared into the blinking eyes of Squall Leonhart who was looking up at her in confusion. Seeing him alive nearly made her break down into another round of tears. He saw the grief in her eyes and frowned as he reached up brush fingers against her cheek.

"I came back," he murmured as he cupped her cheek with his gloved hand. "There was light and I followed it."

He rose up shakily on one elbow while still holding her close. There was warmth in his touch now and Rinoa allowed herself to melt into his embrace as they both bathed in the sunlight. She knew that they still needed to return to the real flower field outside of Edea's orphanage, where their friends were waiting anxiously for them. But within Squall's arms she felt content to simply stay a moment longer, letting all thoughts of doubt fall away through Time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One**

The movie ended with the hero and the damsel standing in a bright flower field with violins rising into a triumphant crescendo as the two met in a passionate kiss. The hero got the girl, the evil sorceress was dead, everybody lived, end of story. When the credits started rolling, the house lights switched on and around her were the relieved sighs and groans of her companions. Rinoa managed keep silent, though she shared their sentiment. The moment the damsel had walked on screen and spoken her first line, Rinoa had sunk low into her chair as her face turned a deep shade of red.

Squall was the first one up, managing to cut a way through the emptying theatre without exerting any particular effort. The others quickly scrambled to keep pace with him as they elbowed through the throng of people chattering excitedly about the movie.

Rinoa managed to catch snippets of conversations as she passed them and judging by the amount of positive criticism she heard, it seemed that she and her friends were in a minority—except for Selphie of course, who was the sole reason why they'd broken away from Garden for a trip to the theatres. The over excitable SeeD was beaming as she clung onto Irvine's arm and poured over the pages of a magazine.

Irvine, Zell and Quistis conceded to Selphie's movie suggestion right away, but it took every trick up Rinoa's sleeve in order to convince Squall to come. Constant nagging was her number one tactic, followed by emotional bribery and a day's worth of the cold shoulder before he relented in exasperation. When Squall had agreed she'd thrown her arms around his neck in delight, promising a night of fun. Several hours later and Rinoa regretted her efforts.

They lingered outside the theatre for Zell to grab a refill of his drink at the concession stand. While waiting Rinoa stole a glance at Selphie's magazine and made a face when she caught a glimpse of the cover featuring a glam shot of the very same blonde damsel from the movie. She looked away, busying herself with watching her companions instead. Irvine looked bored as he tried to show interest every time Selphie pointed something out to him from the pages. Quistis looked as composed as ever though Rinoa knew the other woman well enough that she was as bored out of her mind as Irvine. Squall just looked as disinterested in his surroundings as usual.

"So," she spoke up, breaking the silence they'd fallen into since the start of the movie. "What did everyone think of it?"

"It sucked," Irvine replied immediately. He flinched when Selphie drew away from the magazine and whacked him on the arm.

"It wasn't that bad," Quistis admitted. "You just weren't happy that your character only had ten lines."

"Which is what's gonna make it a flop," Irvine said with an insufferable grin. "Not enough of me."

"I don't know," Rinoa said, unable to help her cheeky grin. "From what I've read _Time Compression_ is supposed to be this summer's blockbuster. All the big name actors are in it."

"At least you guys were still human," Zell muttered as he joined them. He scowled down at his drink. "They turned me into Rinoa's pig familiar…that doesn't even make sense!"

"I'm not seeing the big difference right now," Quistis cracked with a pointed look at the large tub of popcorn and several packets of candy Zell had cradled in his arms.

Before Zell could retort, Selphie cut in with a delighted squeal. "Guys, it says here that they're going to make a sequel to _Time Compression_! Omigosh, I hope Rinoa and Squall get married in this one. It'd be so romantic!" Selphie hopped back and forth on her feet as she hugged the magazine to her chest.

Silence hung over the group as all eyes turned to their stolid commander who had yet to contribute to the discussion. Squall stood apart from them, wearing a blank expression as he watched civilians trickle from the theatre into the night. Disappointed when no amusing outburst occurred, Quistis arched an eyebrow at Rinoa who gave an exaggerated shrug in reply. The young sorceress cleared her throat as she nudged Squall none too gently in the ribs with an elbow.

"Squall? Yoohoo! Care to join us?"

"Hmm?" Squall managed as he continued to watch the traffic.

Rinoa frowned at Squall's lackluster reply and leaned forward, hanging off of his arm to poke her head into his field of vision. "What did you think?"

Startled by Rinoa's sudden intrusion, Squall shot her an annoyed look. "About?"

Rinoa rolled her eyes as she straightened. "The movie! What did you think of the movie?"

"Oh. It was crap."

"See? Squall agrees with me," Irvine nodded in satisfaction.

"Oooh, Squall dresses in black leather all the time, that doesn't means anything," Selphie retorted as she threw her magazine at the cowboy who fumbled to catch it. She stormed ahead with a repentant Irvine in tow.

"Let's go calm Selphie down before she goes on a rampage through the city, Zell," Quistis suggested, tugging on his sleeve.

"But Irvine can handle it," Zell said. He looked almost afraid at the prospect of facing an angry Selphie. "I don't see why we have to get involved."

"Just come," Quistis sighed as she gave him a hard yank and began to drag him down the road. Zell's noisy protests were ignored as Quistis threw a meaningful look at Rinoa over her shoulder. The sorceress smiled back in gratitude as she watched them go.

Her already tenuous smile fell away into a frown when she looked back over at Squall. He'd fallen back to stony silence, which was par for the course with him, but there was something different this time. She couldn't place a finger on why it felt weird to her, but there was a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach that always filled her with dread. It was a signal, a warning sign that was an effect of her powers. Her magic always knew when something was about to occur before she did. Something was wrong.

"Squall?" She nudged him with an elbow again, which barely got a twitch from him. Something was definitely wrong. She opted for shaking his arm, which got his attention when his placid features transformed into a very familiar scowl-the one that she found very cute.

"What?" he snapped.

Rinoa could barely conceal her relief, she masked it into one her usual impish smiles. "Just wondering what's on your mind."

Squall sighed as he rubbed his forehead and immediately became guilty. "I don't know," he mumbled. "Guess I'm just tired." In Squall speak it was as close as he could get to an apology without further prompting from her.

He did look tired, Rinoa realized and instantly felt ashamed for not noticing earlier. In her excitement to see the movie she hadn't stopped to scrutinize Squall before she'd dragged him out with her. Squall had this perplexing and often self destructive need to hide what he considered were debilitating weaknesses that other normal people considered simple human necessities… such as sleep. He was the commander of SeeD and essentially ran Balamb Garden. His day to day life was filled with appointments and paperwork. Sometimes it was hard enough to get him to eat much less drag him away from all that stress.

"Squall," she sighed. It was an old argument and she couldn't find the energy or the words for another one.

"I'm fine, Rinoa," Squall said a little too quickly. His words were far from reassuring.

They lapsed into an awkward silence as they followed the others who were far ahead by now. Rinoa distantly heard Selphie's angry rant at Irvine though eventually her shouts petered out. There were still stragglers coming out of the theatre, but Rinoa's thoughts were focused entirely on Squall. It was impossible to stare at him for too long without him noticing, but with her occasional side glances she noticed how sluggish Squall's steps seemed. She was close to suggesting a night at the local hotel rather than a long trek back to Garden, but the words died on her lips when Squall jerked forward, stumbling in his step. She nearly collided into him when he came to a sudden halt and she knew immediately by the way he wavered that he was going to collapse.

"Squall!" Rinoa cried out when he tilted forward. Her arms flew out to wrap around his torso and managed to catch herself and Squall before they could tumble to the ground, but she was beginning to buckle under his heavy weight. Before she actually collapsed, a pair of strong arms eased his weight from her and gently lowered both her and Squall to the ground. Rinoa looked up to meet Zell's concerned gaze and saw that the others had joined them as well.

"What happened?" Quistis demanded.

"I don't know. He just fainted," Rinoa felt helpless as she cradled his head. Squall was pale and his eyes were rolled back into their sockets.

"Squall?" she shook him, trying to get a reaction. She remembered holding him like this before and the memory had an icy grip on her heart.

Selphie knelt beside them and leaned forward until her ear was nearly pressed against his mouth. She frowned in concentration and sat back as she took his wrist and placed two fingers on the pulse point. "Airway's clear, he's still breathing and I've got a regular pulse," she murmured as she gently lowered Squall's arm to rest against his chest.

"I'm going to contact Garden," Quistis announced. She broke away from their circle and pulled out her cell phone.

Rinoa nodded, grateful for the presence of her friends since she certainly didn't know what to do. She'd taken all those first aid classes and in the moment that it actually mattered she'd drawn a blank. She ran a hand over his forehead and found it slick with perspiration.

"Squall," she murmured, trying to call out to him with her heart. "Come back to me."

* * *

Esthar was a city that never slept.

Alive at all times of the day, it bustled with activity even in the wee hours of the morning. Standing alone as the lift took her up a long ride of twenty stories, Nadia stared at the cityscape with bleary eyes and all the indifference that a woman who was still unaccustomed to early work hours could manage. The lift dinged and came to a stop at her floor. She turned abruptly from the vista and immediately hissed when burning heat suddenly flooded the front of her robe.

"Oh! Sorry!"

Nadia looked up at the security guard who was carrying a cup of coffee with which its contents were now staining her clothes. Her pristine, white robes that she'd recently bought. "I'm really sorry," the guard winced and began to pat away at her as though it would make the coffee stain miraculously disappear.

"Forget it," Nadia muttered, shouldering past him and inwardly cursed the man multiple times.

There were certain people who were ridiculously superstitious. Nadia knew a number of them. In fact her own mother was one of those superstitious people who did everything from throwing spilt salt over her shoulder to shrieking loud enough to shatter glass whenever she crossed paths with a black cat. Nadia was always thankful to whatever gods that she didn't really believe in (unless it was convenient for her to curse at them) that she had inherited her father's sensibilities. It was just unfortunate that her father had to die when she was very young leaving Nadia to endure her mother's eccentric lifestyle until she was old enough to leave the nest. Her mother had a tendency to attribute unfortunate occurrences to bad luck, which happened to be under the aegis of the faeries or gods or fates, depending on what sort of spiritual kick she was in. Whatever new higher beings that her mother would be praying to on any given week, bad luck was something that happened when you pissed them off.

Nadia was beginning to wonder what sort of gods she managed to piss off. She knew she was going to have a very bad day and that little incident on the lift meant she would spend the entirety of her bad day smelling of coffee. Her suspicions were reaffirmed when she realized that her key card was refusing to work for the fifth time that week.

Growling in frustration, Nadia banged on the door, hoping someone inside could hear her. Much to her dismay it was her boss that came up to the door. He frowned at her through the glass panel and with a press of a few buttons on his side of the door, Nadia was given admittance.

"I'm so sorry, my card's not working again for some reason," Nadia managed between breaths as she stepped into the lab. "I keep asking maintenance to look into it…"

"Yes, yes… spare me your excuses," Odine muttered as he waved an over sized sleeve at the papers on a counter. "Ve have much vork to do today and ve've already lost too much time vith your dawdling."

Even with her cheeks burning red she was grateful that the doctor at least didn't comment on the coffee stain. Odine was already at his latest project before she could pick up the clipboard. The lab itself was smaller than what Nadia was used to, but the equipment that were installed were far more advanced than anything she'd encountered. Some of them she didn't even know what they were for much less how to use them.

Having learnt from past experience, Nadia crept up to Odine's side, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. The doctor tended to grow extremely irate by the tiniest distraction and she was already off on the wrong foot today by disturbing whatever it was he was doing before she arrived. "Subject is healthy, vital signs are stable and latest assessments have shown a response to light and sound during sleep state. Subject has yet to develop a solid sleeping pattern, vhich is normal at this stage of development."

Nadia scribbled furiously away on the clipboard, using an abbreviated script to keep up with Odine as he rattled away about his latest obsession. Despite all of Esthar's great technology Odine still preferred to have his words written down and then transcribed on computer at the end of the day. Of course that would be her job to do later on. Eight years spent in the most prestigious university in Esthar and she was now a glorified secretary. At least the job paid well.

Every once in a while she would give an absentminded nod or a small hum of agreement to prompt the scientist. She noted that they were alone in the lab, which was nothing out of the ordinary. Odine preferred to conduct his experiments with as much secrecy as he could afford and considering his current project, it was best if few people knew about it.

Nadia did her best to keep her eyes on the clipboard and not on the experiment, which was the centrepiece of the room. Confined in a small glass cell, the subject was currently asleep, oblivious to Odine's observing eyes.

She paused in her writing when she swore she felt something brush against her leg. Frowning, Nadia glanced around the lab, but saw only Odine, who was now glaring irritably at her.

Abashed, Nadia returned to her clipboard.

It took several moments and plenty of grumbling before Odine was ready to return to his dictation. "Since subject is exhibiting expected reflexes, I have decided to proceed to the next stage of the project vhich involves subject's reaction to certain stimuli-"

There! Nadia was certain she heard heavy footsteps, almost like claws against a tile floor. Although she'd never kept pets, her mother had a large dog she kept as a companion and every time it wandered around the apartment its paws would click loudly against the hard floor. The sound she'd heard was similar to that, except it seemed lighter and heavier at the same time, without the bouncy step like her mother's dog.

Nadia whirled around, but again there was nothing.

"Lab Assistant Nadia!" Odine stomped up to her and slapped the clipboard out of her hand. It clattered loudly to the floor. "Do you vish to vork here or not? I have no need for an assistant who has her head in the clouds as you alvays seem to be-"

An animalistic growl stopped Odine in his angry tirade. And there it was, simply appearing, coming into existence from thin air: a large creature that was a hybrid of man and animal that stood on its hind legs. It dwarfed both of them by far, its crown of red horns scraping against the tall ceiling of the lab. Dark purple fur mottled with blood red covered its body and a flowing white mane framed its bestial face. Folded against its back was a pair of large, white feathery wings that looked powerful enough to snap bones with ease. Large red spikes protruded from the elbows of its arms and tipped at each paw were long, vicious black claws that looked sharp enough to pierce through any metal surface with ease. Yet what frightened Nadia the most, what kept her frozen in place, were its eyes, golden and full of unspoken power.

Trembling underneath its gaze, she recalled distantly, what the creature reminded her of the most. A lion from the stories she'd read in her childhood, none existed in Esthar and most of the world as far as she knew, but here was one in its likeness standing right in the middle of the lab. She also recalled that lions were supposed to be carnivorous.

The great lion pinned both of them with a golden stare and with a curl of its mouth it let out a roar that shook the machines. Beside her, Odine let out a whimper, which became a high pitched scream when the lion directed its gaze at him. With another loud scream, the doctor was out the lab door. Nadia didn't think she could have reached those high notes that Odine somehow hit. She would have found Odine's cowardice funny if not for the fact that she was now facing a very angry looking lion.

"Er… nice… kitty…" She had to hold onto a counter to keep herself upright since her legs had dissolved into jelly.

The beast didn't seem impressed with her attempt at bravado, it growled at her. It was then that whatever fates that happened to look out for Nadia took their chance to intervene. The Project began to cry, dragging the beast's attention to the glass cell. With the weight of its stare off her, Nadia was ready to heave a sigh of relief until the lion returned its attention back to her.

With her gaze locked with the beast's, Nadia found that she couldn't turn away. A barrage of images and thoughts assaulted her mind, all with the ferocity of a wild animal. Her vision turned red as the invasion shredded through her. It was heat and fury inside her mind, overwhelming her, flooding her with such hot pain. She shrieked until just as quickly as the thoughts came, they were gone. She collapsed against the tiled floor, still clutching onto the counter. Tears streamed down her face and her throat was raw from her screaming.

"Yes…" she croaked, refusing to look at the creature. Her gaze settled at the floor before its paws. "I understand."

She turned when lab doors opened and two security guards rushed in. She recognized one of them, the same man who'd spilt his coffee on her earlier. They took one look at the lion and one uttered a loud curse as they both levelled their weapons at it. Nadia opened her mouth to warn them, but one guard had a fast trigger finger and fired before she could utter a word. A blast of energy hit the beast causing no outward reaction, but Nadia knew better. After that brief mental connection, she knew that the man's assault had only served to anger it.

It roared in anger and displeasure and fell onto all fours, claws connecting loudly to the ground. With a single leap it toppled one guard, smashing a large paw across the man's chest. Blood flew through the air as sharp, black claws cut cleanly through his torso. The guard was already dead before he hit the ground, a mess of blood and torn flesh. Nadia took one look at the fallen man and vomited across the floor.

She buried her face into her arms, but even with her hands covering her eyes she could hear the fate of the second man, the poor idiot from the lift. He was screaming incomprehensible words and there was another blast. Overhead there was a spray of sparks from the wild shot and the lab became noticeably dimmer. There was a deafening roar and the visceral sound of flesh being torn followed by the thud of a collapsing body.

He wasn't dead, she could hear his gurgled chokes. It wouldn't take him long to die with the amount of blood he was losing and the many vital organs that were damaged. He would be suffering a painful death. If she had any amount of courage, she could have picked up one of their weapons and given him a quick end. She was a scientist, not a soldier and the very thought of killing someone further sickened her.

She felt the hot breath of the beast and nearly retched at the smell, which was heavy with blood. Nadia looked up and saw that it was watching her again until its gaze turned almost imperceptibly towards the cell and its crying occupant.

It took several attempts before Nadia could even stand. She was shaking and her limbs felt as though they were lead as she stumbled over to the cell. The framework came to her waist, making it easy for her to bend forward and peer inside. The Project lay on its back in the centre, face bright red against the white cloth it was swaddled in. She made soothing noises as she often observed mothers do and reached forward, lifting the infant up. In her arms it was so tiny and fragile, making it hard for Nadia to believe the amount of money that Odine had invested in it.

She nearly jumped as she felt the great lion brush against her back and heard the doors to the lab being forced open. There was a loud crunch of metal, but she kept her gaze on the child, away from the mutilated bodies. The guard had grown silent, but there was the occasional twitch or barely audible whimper that told Nadia that he was still alive.

Holding the infant against her breast, she made rubbing motions against his back to calm him down. The crying still persisted, but she didn't have the time to try and keep the baby content. Feeling its eyes on her back, she turned to face the creature that was waiting for her in the hall. Nadia flinched when the beast snapped its jaws angrily at her.

"Shhh," Nadia murmured, "it's alright, it's alright. I'm going to take you to your grandpa. Wouldn't you like that..." She struggled as she tried to recall the name that Odine had given the child. "Daryl?"

The baby didn't seem to have an opinion either way since he continued to cry. As Nadia followed the lion out of the lab, she did her best not to look at the corpses.

* * *

"Okay Laguna, no more putting this off," Kiros held up both hands, each holding a tie. "The blue one or the red one?"

Looking up from his desk, Laguna made a face. "Do I really have to wear one?"

"Well you can't exactly attend the first world event that Esthar has hosted in over four decades dressed in a polo shirt and khaki pants," Kiros held up the two ties. "Now come on, blue or red?"

"Oh fine," Laguna blew the hair out of his face as he got up and snatched the ties from Kiros' grasp to closely examine both. After a long moment of consideration, trying to remember all those lessons in color coordination Ellone and Raine tried to instill in him, he made up his mind. "The blue one."

"At least you have some taste," Kiros conceded as he handed the ties over to his assistant who quickly scurried out of the office to do Hyne knew what with them.

"Gee, thanks," Laguna muttered as he settled back at his desk. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a country to run."

"You're not fooling anyone pal. We all know you're playing solitaire over there."

Laguna shot his friend a death glare as he discreetly shut down the game of cards on his desktop. "No, for your information, I'm going over the… uh…" he looked closely at the folders available. "Mercer's pitch on budget cuts and proper funding?"

"Mercer's still going on about that?" Kiros asked as he moved over to the desk to peer over Laguna's shoulder.

"Looks like it," Laguna shrugged as he skimmed over the files. "Same stuff as before. Nothing practical of course. I'm not about to cut medical funds by another 10%, can you imagine the uproar that'll cause?"

"Hmm, well he does have a point here about the amount of money we spend on our magical research," Kiros murmured as he pointed at another part of the report.

"Against sorceresses and those who abuse magic!" Laguna protested. "If there's one area Esthar's always been hazy about, it's magical defence. We've been bullied around in the past before by magic. Nearly been destroyed by that whole Lunatic Pandora fiasco. I don't think it's really a bad idea to be prepared."

"Maybe, but evil sorceresses are a rare enough occurrence that spending that much money in case another one pops up is being a bit overcautious," Kiros moved away from the desk to lounge on one of the plush chairs that decorated the office. "Besides since Rinoa's the only sorceress around..."

"We can never be too careful," Laguna retorted and sighed at Kiros' sceptical look. "Okay fine. I'll look into it. Happy now?"

"A little," Kiros admitted with a smirk.

A flashing light on his intercom caught his attention. Grateful for the distraction, Laguna slapped the button hard enough to sting. He winced, but managed to keep the pain out of his voice as he answered the call, grateful that his secretary couldn't see his expression. "Laguna Loire."

"Mister President, there's uh… someone here who's very adamant about seeing you."

"Sure," Laguna said wearily. "Send 'em in, apparently I have nothing else better to do anyway."

"Laguna, you know I didn't mean it that way," Kiros said. Anything else he had to say was cut off when the doors to the president's office opened and a very haggard woman, wearing robes stained with what Laguna hoped was coffee, stomped up to his desk and thrust a bundle of blankets in front of him.

"Here." When Laguna didn't accept her offering, she shoved the blankets into his arms. "I am through with this bullshit. I am done. Done!"

"What are you…?" Laguna looked down at the bundle in surprise when it began to wail very loudly.

"Not my responsibility anymore," the woman exclaimed. She made a beeline for the door and stopped to add a final thought, "By the way he's your grandson. We named him Daryl."

No one in the office looked more surprised than Laguna.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Dun dun dun! As if things weren't bad enough for Squall right now, it's time to ramp up the drama between him and Laguna! Rest assured, I don't plan on writing any over the top "IhateyouIhateyouIhateyou" angst from Squall concerning Laguna. There will be words between the two when they eventually meet up, how can there not be? But I plan on toning things down to keep the drama at an acceptable level, well for me at least!

I'm also taking some liberties with the timeline. I'm assuming Squall's adventure in FF8 took at least a year, meaning by the time Ultimecia was defeated, he turned 18. This story takes about three years after that so he and Rinoa are around 21.

Major thanks to the people who reviewed. You guys made me so happy when I was really nervous about posting this fic!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Two**

He was in a place of shadows with only the dim and distant light of the stars as illumination. Strangely, he knew this place. It was only a matter of searching his memory, but something made him hesitate-fear. It was no foreign emotion to him, with the number of life and death situations he'd faced, but the reasons for it eluded him.

Turning in the darkness he tried to survey his surroundings, but there was nothing but the gloom. Somewhere faraway he could hear voices whispering. Unable to see the owners of the voices, he strained his ears to hear what they spoke, but their words were soft and indistinguishable.

Taking a few tentative steps he moved haltingly through the dark. He only managed to walk a few feet when he heard the first cries of the child. They began as soft whimpers and eventually rose into distressed howls.

With nothing else to offer guidance, he chose to follow the cries. What he would do when he found the child, he wasn't certain. He was never fond of kids, never really knew what to do with them in the first place.

The decision making would be a long ways off, he realized after he began his search. Each time he started in the direction of the child, the shadows would shift and the cries would come from elsewhere. He made three more attempts before giving up in frustration.

"Where?" he shouted, he turned, looking around him as he screamed his question again, "_Where?_" Only the child's cries and the distant whispers answered, offering no help in their reply.

He growled, feeling the deep rumble in chest. A memory with gossamer wings skirted at the edges of his mind and he remembered, with fear that made him tremble, why his surroundings were so familiar. It was the hopelessness, the nothingness when he looked around.

He sank into the shadows, pulling his knees to his chest, that tiny spark of fear was now consuming him. The wailing of the child seemed to become as distressed as his own heart or perhaps it was his own mind that was twisting everything to match his mood. He lifted his head to the stars, the only light in the desolate place and with a jolt, realized that the voices he heard were coming from them.

He got to his feet, neck craned far back to stare at the shimmering expanse. He lifted a hand to reach for the light, to fill the emptiness in his heart with it. Staring so intently at the stars, he saw with slight apprehension that they were drawing closer. Their light slowly increasing in intensity as they descended—or as he was ascending, he could hardly tell.

His thoughts were drawn away from the stars as their whispers and the child's cries were drowned out by a bestial snarl. The shadows stirred and lifted, unveiling an almost indistinct form that stalked towards him. As it drew closer he saw that it walked on four legs, and in the darkness he could barely identify its colours, but he knew with dawning terror what those colours would be. Red and dark purple and black with a stark mane of white.

The beast met his gaze with golden eyes that pinned him in place. There was such power to its walk, he could see the steely muscles of its legs and torso and even in its wings that were tucked close to its back. As the creature came closer, so did the light of the stars brighten. The shadows withdrew, crawling away as their luminance flooded the land.

He had to squint as the light washed away even colour, but his gaze was still on the beast, and he saw the blood that was still dripping from its fangs. Bright red against its quickly fading form, but even that colour was gone and he was left with only the harsh light.

There were a multitude of voices that could have belonged to a million speakers. They all seemed to vie with each other to be heard, he clamped his hands over his ears as a feeble shield, but the voices still pressed against him.

One voice rose above the others, becoming louder and discernable. He knew that one too, though the name of its owner escaped him. The others faded away as this one voice drew closer, almost speaking into his ear.

"He's waking up..."

Awake? He couldn't recall falling asleep, but another voice spoke up, just as clear and defined as the first. "Squall?"

His heart constricted at the soft caress of his name. He knew that voice and could easily envision its owner. He yearned for her, reached out for her and was surprised when a gentle hand grasped his own. With an effort, Squall Leonhart pried his eyes open and abandoned the world of light to be greeted by the blurred vision of Rinoa Heartilly.

He blinked several times, clearing his vision to see Rinoa wearing a tired smile, her fingers still woven around his own. When she saw the focus in his eyes, her tired smile grew. With her free hand she brushed aside his unruly strands of hair.

He was lying in a hard bed wearing nothing from the waist up and felt vulnerable from the exposure. Not even when he was in his own dorm with Rinoa at his side could he sleep without at least wearing a shirt. Unless of course, it was the aftermath of love making, but he was certain that wasn't the reason why he was lying half naked in a strange bed.

He looked up at Rinoa, who was leaning over him. He had to admit that he did like the sensation of her hair tickling his bare skin. Rinoa smiled as her hand slid from his forehead to cup his cheek. "About time you came back to us."

"_I didn't even realize I was gone,"_ he wanted to say, to be witty and chase away the shadows that were in her eyes. When he tried to speak his words came out as wheezes, Rinoa's smile disappeared, which was a bigger blow to his heart than his own weakness. Shaking his head, he coughed as he tried to sit up, but someone came up to his bedside and pushed him back down with a firm hand. He tore his gaze away from Rinoa to see Dr. Kadowaki frowning down at him in disapproval.

"You only just woke up and you're already trying to push your limits?" Kadowaki shook her head as she glanced down at her clipboard. She pulled out a pen and began to write furiously. No doubt it would be something incriminating for his medical record.

Inwardly he groaned as he began to comprehend his situation. Somehow he was in the infirmary due to some injury that he couldn't recall. His mind reeled back through his memories, but he came up with nothing, only the light of the dream with the monster and the child. He shuddered as he remembered the vividness of the blood.

Always aware of her patient's distress, Kadawoki's frown instantly dissolved into concern. "Are you cold?"

Squall shook his head though it irritated him how it took so much effort to perform such a simple gesture. "No," he managed to say and winced at how hoarse his voice sounded.

Kadowaki let loose a long suffering sigh. "Squall, I'm your doctor. For once in your life you could make my job a little easier."

"I'm fine," he ground out. "Confused, but fine."

"What's the last thing you remember?" Rinoa asked.

"I had a dream... and..." he frowned, but was prompted to continue with Rinoa's encouraging nods. "Weren't we watching a movie?"

"You fainted," Kadowaki replied, still writing on her clipboard.

Squall stared at the doctor, unable to control his bewildered expression. He blamed his fatigue for the slowness of his comprehension, but it was hard for him to believe that of all things that could land him in the infirmary, that he had fainted. It was just so-so _unmanly_.

"From blood loss?" he tried finding some thread of hope.

"Exhaustion," Kadowaki stated. She levelled a stern look at him. "You're not taking care of yourself, Squall. When was the last time you had a proper meal?"

Squall's hesitance only deepened her frown. Things had been busy for him, sure Squall skipped a few meals every once in a while, but it wasn't like this was the first time he'd ever slipped into bad eating habits. It came with the job description as commander of Garden where discovering a stack of paper work on his desk first thing in the morning was a regular occurrence.

"You're not sleeping well, you're not eating well and you're severely dehydrated," Kadowaki continued. "Your stress levels are inordinately high."

"I guess I could take it easy."

"You _will_ take it easy," Kadowaki retorted. "From what I understand you have a vacation coming up?"

"We're going to Deling for a bit," Rinoa confirmed. Squall could see that she was struggling to suppress a grin, but failing.

"You're going to be having that vacation early," Kadowaki spoke with the easy authority of a woman used to having her commands carried out. "From here on you're on leave from active duty."

Squall rose up, ready to protest, still thinking of that mountain of paperwork on his desk. "I have work-"

"Which someone else can easily take care of," Kadowaki said tersely and to further confuse Squall, she smiled and continued in a softer tone. "Squall, you're a hero and everyone in Garden looks up to you. I know you like to keep up this reputation of being a stoic soldier and leader, but you're setting a bad example when you push yourself like this."

Squall wanted to point out that it hadn't been his choice to be Garden's commander. It was a duty that'd been forced on him and as someone who always took his duty seriously he went through with it a full hundred percent. Still, he had to admit there were those moments where he felt like tossing his paperwork into the shredder. Sitting by idly was not the most ideal way of spending his days, especially when he knew it would be a while before Kadowaki would allow him into the training centre, but if he could avoid the tedious business of a desk job he supposed her orders wouldn't be too bad.

"Fine," he muttered. He didn't want to seem too compliant. "I can get Quistis and Xu to look after affairs."

"Good," Kadowai favoured him with a smile. "I'll leave the nursing duties to Rinoa. She's had training for this very occasion, you know."

Squall blanched, beside him he could feel Rinoa perking up. "What?" he managed feebly, but Kadowaki was already out of the infirmary.

* * *

"No. Rinoa I don't need you to-" Squall was cut off when the love of his life shoved a spoonful of mashed peas into his mouth. He clamped his jaw shut around the plastic spoon, shooting daggers at Rinoa with his stare.

"Not a fan of peas?" Rinoa asked sweetly, yanking the spoon out of his mouth. She was grinning from ear to ear. Squall was sorely tempted to throw a pillow at her.

"Of course not," he retorted. He rose up, causing the tray of food on his lap that Rinoa had pilfered from cafeteria to rattle. "And you know I don't need you to spoon feed me either."

Rinoa did an over elaborate pout. "You won't let me give you a sponge bath and you won't let me spoon feed you. Where's the fun in nursing you?"

Squall sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead. "You know she only gave you this power to punish me."

Rinoa stared at him with wide hurt eyes that were so exaggerated that Squall could understand why she never attempted a career as an actress. "So you don't _like_ it when I nurse you?"

She held his gaze for too long, which undid her, she toppled over in a fit of laughter. Though he tried hard, Squall couldn't stop his own grin. With great reluctance Kadowaki had released him to his dorms, but as a final vengeance ordered him to spend the next two days in bed, an over precautious charge, but he had little power to argue against the doctor. When he first entered his dorms he wondered how he could possibly spend two days doing nothing, but it seemed Rinoa was obstinate about spending those two days with him as well.

When her laughter subsided, Rinoa plopped down beside him, causing the tray to rattle off his lap. Squall's quick reflexes saved his bed sheets from a messy fate and Rinoa earned a disapproving glare from him. Despite her bad acting, Rinoa managed to look sheepish.

"Okay, we can do the feeding stuff later," Rinoa said, taking the tray from his hands and letting it drop onto his nightstand. "Cafeteria food's not that nutritious anyway."

"I'll have to look into that later," Squall said. With some effort, he managed to pull Rinoa onto his lap. She arched an eyebrow at him, but said nothing as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"I'm pretty sure Kadowaki said something about not straining yourself," she murmured. She leaned forward, her breath hot against his cheek.

"If I'm going to be stuck in bed all day I might as well take advantage of it," Squall caught her lips, savouring the taste of her.

His hand drifted down her back, going under her shirt to trail upwards. Rinoa sighed through their kiss, trembling slightly as she pulled herself closer to him. She'd chosen to wear a bright yellow sleeveless top today. Squall half suspected that Rinoa often picked a colourful wardrobe to offset his own sombre one though what he really cared about at that moment was how easy it would be to pull off her shirt.

Abruptly they pulled apart, interrupted by the chiming of the doorbell. Squall groaned, he was ready to kill the man who'd installed the sound system to his dorm. Not quite so easily frustrated, Rinoa grinned at him, shrugging as she slid off his lap to answer the door.

"Rinoa!" an all too familiar voice squealed and barrelled into the sorceress, engulfing her into a rib crushing bear hug.

"Selphie!" Rinoa managed to catch herself before both she and her assailant collapsed to the floor.

Following the young SeeD was the rest of the gang, all wearing various expressions of amusement and embarrassment. Irvine laughed as he extricated his girlfriend from the sorceress. "Sorry Rinoa, the whole trip to Trabia's got her more excited than usual."

"I'm not a dog, Irvy," Selphie retorted, whacking him on the arm.

"So you're just chirpier than usual for...?" Irvine asked, arching an eyebrow.

"The party!" Selphie exclaimed, turning to the rest of her friends. It was then that Squall noted that all his companions were either carrying bright decorations or food. Dread began to fill him as he quickly caught onto what the boisterous SeeD had in mind.

"Party...?" Rinoa managed weakly. She turned to stare helplessly at the rest of her friends, but they were shaking their heads.

"Alright guys, get to work. I want this boring place to look bright and cheerful before the night's done," Selphie commanded. She pointed a finger at Zell who froze under her attention. "And don't you dare pop all of the balloons again or I swear I'll really hurt you."

Zell's face turned red. He held up a several balloons tied to colourful ribbons. "Uh, where do you want these then, Selphie?"

Selphie placed a hand on her chin and began stroking an imaginary beard as she considered. Her eyes brightened when an idea came to her. "How about we tie them around Squall's bed!"

"Selphie, I don't-" Rinoa stopped when Selphie linked arms with her and dragged her over to the food Quistis was still laying out on his desk.

"Look Rinoa, I even got us a cake!"

Watching Zell and Maia tie balloons around his bed post and Irvine putting up streamers was enough for Squall. "What is going on here?" he demanded, using his best authoritative voice that made even the best trained SeeDs flinch. He noted with some satisfaction that his friends paused in their merriment to stare at him.

Selphie only rolled her eyes. "We're having a party of course."

"A party in my room?"

"Well duh. Where else would we have it?"

Having known the unruly SeeD for several years now, especially when having to deal with her when she got a crazy idea into her head, Squall had cultivated a high level of tolerance for her quirky tendencies. After reigning in a caustic remark, Squall tried again, "why are we having a party in my room, Selphie?"

"We were going to have a surprise one in the cafeteria," Quistis cut in, preventing Selphie from spreading further confusion with her mercurial thoughts. "A going away party for all of us, but since you had that incident and couldn't leave your dorm we all thought we could have it here instead."

Irvine, who'd been studying him, broke into a wide, knowing a grin. "Were we interrupting anything?"

To his credit, Squall managed to not turn red, but there must have been some sort of giveaway in his body language that caused the rest of his friends to all share insufferable grins. He looked at Rinoa and saw that she would be no help. She was covering her mouth with her hand, but he could easily see the mirth in her dancing brown eyes.

"Come on Squall, this will be fun," Zell said. "When was the last time you had fun anyway?"

He was outnumbered with no hope of help from his closest ally. In a situation like this he had no choice but to surrender. Sighing, Squall fell back against his pillows and offered his consent in a nod. "Fine," he muttered. He straightened and glared at Selphie. "But no movie."

"Aww," Selphie moaned, but knew better than to push her luck.

Squall scowled as he watched his friends go through with the decorations, detesting just how bright and colourful they were, especially the balloons since he knew that the night would end with Zell and Selphie popping all of them. His attention turned to Rinoa when she sat down beside him, taking his hand in her own.

"You're not fooling anyone," she said softly enough so that only he could hear.

She needed no further elaboration and Squall only snorted as his reply, still keeping that facade of stoic commander. Rinoa, who'd become a master of reading his body language, only smiled as she turned her attention to watch Selphie direct Irvine in how she wanted the streamers hung.

Rinoa was right of course, but it would be a cold day in hell when he would admit that he actually liked it when his friends went out of their way to make him feel like part of the gang. It was too easy to lose touch, sitting behind a desk looking at statistics and numbers, but he was glad to call the people in his room his friends.

He made a mental note not to act quite as crabby during the party.

* * *

The yacht drifted listlessly off the coast of Dollet. Since its arrival no one had bothered the vessel asides from the initial transmission to the proper authorities with proof that they had the proper clearance to be in their waters. There was an exchange of sensitive information, which was enough to satisfy the Dukedom to leave the vessel to its own devices.

Wendell stood at the top most deck of the yacht, oblivious to the breeze that was adamant in mussing his blond hair, watching the way the last light of the sun was making the nearby city glow golden. He could almost make out the individual pin pricks of light from windows that were coming to life at this distance.

It was only two days ago since they'd come to Dollet, stopping briefly at the harbour to refuel and restock before setting themselves away from the city. Their captain preferred to be away from civilization whenever possible. Since then he saw several ships come and go, many of them were commercial though he saw the occasional coastal guard. None of them bothered the yacht though Wendell knew if that happened they would have the papers necessary to turn the ships away.

Despite given permission to visit the Dukedom, Wendell chose to remain on board in case he was needed. His sister on the other hand took the opportunity to get away, leaving him behind. If he felt any resentment it was buried away. His decision to stay behind bore fruit when the captain had approached him earlier that day, asking him to act as a bodyguard for an important meeting. No details were given and Wendell was not the type to ask unnecessary questions, only the time and location.

The meeting was held on the yacht. Only half an hour ago a small motorboat had detached itself from the Dukedom's harbour, making a direct course for their vessel. Its occupants came on board after showing security their papers.

The captain received them at the top deck and pleasantries were exchanged. Standing at the edge of the deck, near the railing and trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, Wendell noted that their visitors had a Galbadian drawl to their words. They were three men, dressed in formal clothing, not quite out of place on the luxury cruiser, but in direct contrast to the captain who stood opposite of them, dressed in a simple grey short sleeved shirt and white khaki shorts.

The captain was older than all four of them by several years though his actual age was indiscernible and he was not the type to freely offer personal information. His light blond hair was slicked back making it appear darker. The captain wore no accessories save for the opaque sunglasses that was commonplace on board a yacht, except Wendell knew that the captain owned several of them and wore them no matter the place or time of day.

The captain went by several titles to those who worked on the yacht though he had no official one. Wendell preferred to simply think of him as the captain, but his sister would occasionally call the man 'the master' well out of ear shot of anyone else but Wendell.

The master in question sat on an expensive yet equally comfortable deck chair under the shade of a large wide umbrella though unnecessary now that the sun was setting. Wendell was the only bodyguard, though he doubted he was needed in the first place. He could tell by the men's body language that they were ready to conduct the meeting as simpering sycophants, letting the captain direct the conversation as he wished. Wendell's presence in this meeting was more for show, which was something he was used to in his line of work.

While the three men were willing to bow and scrape to the captain, Wendell wasn't so easily fooled to completely dismiss them. He saw that they were dangerous, underneath their dress shirts and ties that the wind tugged at, they were well muscled with the movements of men who had seen their fair share of combat.

But as the meeting drew on, Wendell's attention would occasionally drift elsewhere. What occurred between these two parties was none of his business and everyone was content in allowing Wendell to become background scenery.

The sun was beneath the horizon when the meeting came to its conclusion. The captain invited the men to make free use of his yacht with only a warning that the lower levels were strictly off limits. He called for one of the staff to escort his visitors to the dining room, promising to join them later on.

When the three men departed, the captain stood, watching after them with his hands clasped behind him, legs slightly apart. After a few moments of quiet contemplation, the captain turned, wearing a cool smile. "Well Wendell, what did you think?"

Wendell kept his composure since he'd been expecting the question. The captain often kept a bodyguard around not for protection, but for a second opinion. Flicking his gaze over towards the three men who were helping themselves to the yacht's stock of champagne, Wendell allowed himself only the slightest look of disdain.

"They'll get the job done, sir," he answered.

The older man laughed. "Yes, that's exactly why I hired them, but that's hardly what I wanted to hear, Wendell."

Wendell thought for a moment, careful about his next words. "They will do their jobs, but I don't quite... understand."

The captain arched an eyebrow, clearly amused though Wendell could see that there was no confusion in his expression. "Why I would go out of my way to waste money on thieves? Why not send you or one of your comrades?"

Wendell only nodded, not bothering to waste words. The captain turned towards the ocean, to Dollet glimmering on the horizon. "Simply put because I have another more important job for you, Wendell."

Wendell tried his best to quell his excitement. Ever since Yvaine had been sent off for some unknown task, he couldn't help but wonder why the hot headed girl had been chosen over him. He harboured no illusions about his own skill, but he did believe he was at least equal to Yvaine. Of course he wouldn't admit his own jealousy, but he was certain that his sister noticed it before she left. Thankfully Ava didn't bother to comment.

Of course, nothing escaped the older man and he laughed again. "It'll be a while yet, Wendell, but rest assured your task will be very important to my plans."

Wendell hesitated, but curiosity got the better of his professionalism. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, but what will this task be?"

When the last light of the sun completely faded, the deck had grown dark and was only lit by the inner lights of the yacht, but the captain persisted in wearing his sunglasses. Staring into them Wendell had the fleeting feeling of looking into two black holes that sucked in the light. He batted that thought away, feeling foolish.

"I don't want to get into too much detail," the captain murmured. "Just that we'll be leaving for Deling tomorrow."

Wendell tried his best to stifle his disappointment at the vague response, knowing that there would be no further information forthcoming. He was surprised when the older man, known as the captain to some, 'the master' to a few others and as Drakon Almasy to only a select few, spoke again wearing an almost feral grin.

"I suppose you know something about the Sorceress Rinoa?"

* * *

**Author's notes:** This is what I'd call a fluffy chapter since nothing too much plotwise happens, but we get a lot of character interaction, which I feel is equally important to a story. Honestly, I love it more when authors write scenes where characters just sit down and talk rather than big action sequences.

At least I've introduced a villain! And yes, he's got some rather obvious connections to Seifer, who we'll be seeing next chapter. Take some wild guesses at what one of the major themes for this fic will be guys! C'mon, I have lotsa gold stars to give away.

Special shout out to Missyluv because you're awesome!

And please leave a review! It makes the author happy! Like, really happy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Three**

By the time his shift was over, Seifer was bone weary and irritable. Worst of all, he smelt like old fish and sea salt, the latter he had no problems with, it kinda reminded him of Balamb, sorta. The fish smell, he could do without, but it was an inevitable consequence of his not quite chosen profession. Still, as a man on the run, there weren't a lot of career paths open to him and he settled for what he could. At least Raijin managed to find a job as a cook in some greasy dive and Fujin exploited her talents with machinery at a junk shop. Seifer stuck to fishing, it was a dirty and thankless job and it kept his mind off things.

Together they could barely pool enough money to pay off the month's rent, why they'd chosen Dollet as their next stop after they'd been forced out of Fisherman's Horizon was still somewhat of a mystery to Seifer. It was a city of dazzling lights and high class shops stocked with wares that taunted at him from behind meticulously clean windows. Sometimes the temptation to do a little bit of vandalism got to him, but the last thing Seifer wanted to do was alert the authorities to his presence. At least that was what he kept telling himself when he began taking routes back to his apartment that didn't lead him through all that opulence and glam.

Dollet had a reputation as being the classiest vacation spot in the world, but beneath all the grand tourist traps it was still a city and like all cities it still had its shitholes. It hadn't taken Seifer long to discover the little pockets of unsightliness located at the very fringes of the city, overrun by the destitute and the desperate, making them the perfect place for a wanted criminal to hide.

Since the rent was cheap and since it was hard to find a place to stay with no questions asked or even the proper paper work, he had little choice but to stay at a ratty apartment that probably violated a hundred different codes with its very existence. Still it somehow managed to slip through the city's notice each year and the landlord was one of the few in the city who didn't require a thorough background check with acceptable references.

It'd be a cold day in hell before Seifer actually considered the apartment as home. It was dirty with garbage littering the front steps, several of the windows were broken and boarded up and it was infested with all kinds of vermin. It was likely that several of his neighbours were convicts of some kind, he didn't know for sure, he wasn't even sure what they looked like. On occasion he would pass by strangers in the hall, but he could be assed to strike up conversations with them. The only face he recognized was his landlord, who certainly made a point of dropping by his apartment when the rent was due. He would probably be getting a visit very soon. The landlord might fail horribly at keeping the building running smoothly, but somehow he managed to be right at Seifer's door the day the rent was due.

Seifer picked up his pace when he entered the building, choosing to take the stairs rather than wait for the elevator, mainly to avoid people, but also to keep himself in shape. He was in a perpetual state of fatigue from being over worked with little sleep, but he was starting to get a little soft around the edges. Even if he'd lost almost everything, his looks were all that he had left.

He sprinted up ten flights of steps and nearly gagged when he entered his floor. Something had died in the hall and the stench was pervading every square inch of the place. Seifer had noticed it this morning on his way to work, but it seemed no one had bothered to do something about it and the smell had only gotten stronger.

Covering his mouth with one hand, Seifer quickly made his way to his door and started searching through his pockets for his keys. He could already hear the tv blasting away on the otherside, which meant at least Raijin was home.

"Ah, Seifer, what a coincidence, I was dropping by to speak with you."

With an inward sigh, Seifer let his hand drop from the doorknob and turned to face his landlord. He did his best to school his features, when trying to keep a low profile it would not do to antagonize the man who was indirectly hiding him from the public by keeping his building off city records. Even though it was Raijin who'd initially dealt with the landlord it was always Seifer the man badgered, usually about rent.

"Yes," he said blandly. "What a coincidence."

The landlord was a short man, well past his prime with a balding pate and greys in what remained of his hair. His disgustingly greasy shirt just barely covered his round stomach, but what irritated Seifer the most about him was the constant wheezing as though the man was always out of breath.

"Just wanted to see how you were, Seifer. Job okay?"

Seifer bristled at the small talk, but he managed to plaster on a tight smile. "It's fine. What brings you around?"

"Oh you know, just checking on the building," the landlord waved an airy hand. "Just thought I'd check up on you and see if things were okay."

"Everything's good," Seifer managed to bite out. "I was just planning on taking a shower and turning in. Early day tomorrow."

"Of course, of course," the pudgy man said with a nod. "Gotta make a good impression at work, I'm sure."

"Sure do," Seifer muttered. He doubted his employers even knew his name, which was just how he liked it, but there was little point in correcting the man.

"Speaking of work, isn't today supposed to be payday?"

"Is it?" Seifer asked, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I guess I'd better go to the bank tomorrow. It sure wouldn't do to fall behind on the bills and the rent of course."

"Of course," his landlord said, looking pleased. "You're a good kid, Seifer. Always responsible and respectful."

"Thank you, sir," Seifer ground out.

Without waiting for a response from the landlord, Seifer flung his door open and slammed it shut, hard enough for it to rattle in its frame. He could hear the landlord mumble obscenities from behind the thin door, but it was nothing that he hadn't heard before. Seifer waited until the swearing started to fade away before he started growling a few of his own insults and froze when he realized that he had an audience. Both Raijin and Fujin were staring at him with raised eyebrows.

It was Raijin who broke the awkward silence first. "Hey Seif," he greeted with a raised a hand from the small kitchenette. Behind him something was boiling on the stove and its spicy aroma was overpowering the apartment. Seifer's stomach growled a reminder that he hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast.

Fujin sat by an open window with the parts of their broken fan littered around her. Her hands were covered in grease, as was her jumpsuit that she wore whenever she worked on anything mechanical. She nodded when she met his gaze, but said nothing else.

There was something about watching his friends work that made all of Seifer's old angers stew. He was aware that they were walking on eggshells around him lately, but knowing that only made him angrier. Setting his jaw, he grunted his greetings and made a feeble excuse about taking a shower to get rid of the fish smell. Neither said a word when he left.

The shower was short and he wasted more soap than necessary to scrub himself clean. The water was constantly switching from hot and cold, but by now he was used to it and even with the jarring temperature changes Seifer stepped out of the shower feeling better.

Freshly showered and smelling decent, Seifer joined his friends for dinner at their rickety table and took his usual seat. Conversation was mostly one sided with only Raijin making attempts. He chattered on about his day, about Fujin's day and about the latest gossip. There was something about some celebrity getting married, but since Seifer never cared for movie stars he only grunted in reply while Fujin was content to interject every once in a while to correct her brother. When dinner was done, he cleared the table since it was his turn to wash the dishes.

He set the plates and silverware in the sink and turned the tap. No water came, which was no surprise. They'd complained to the landlord about the plumbing two weeks ago and the man had dropped by for a brief look before leaving again with a promise to buy the supplies necessary to fix it.

Cursing under his breath, Seifer twisted the tap again, this time with more force. He tumbled backwards, plate in one hand and broken tap in the other as he was sprayed by a deluge of dirty water that was quickly flooding their tiny kitchen.

Sitting on their wet and peeling linoleum floor, Seifer fumed and without warning, threw the tap into the sink. The dishes shattered in a glorious cacophony that barely satisfied his mounting frustrations. Seifer was nearly tempted to pick up more dishes and smash them. "Damnit," he growled as he shot up to his feet and flung the plate in his hand into the sink. "Damnit!"

Raijin was by his side and yanked the rest of the dishes out of his reach before he could ruin more of their dinnerware. "Whoa, Seifer, it's okay," he said. "Fujin can fix it, right Fu?"

"FIX IT." Fujin confirmed. She was standing by him now as well.

It was the way they spoke to him, as though they were trying to calm an out of control mongrel that made him slam his fist on the kitchen counter, causing it to crack. "Fix it, I don't care. I'm sick of this shit."

Both of his friends drew back at his outburst and he instantly regretted his words. Taking in a deep breath he forced himself to calm. "Sorry," he muttered. "I need to get out."

Fujin and Raijin exchanged glances that were unreadable to him, which only irritated him more. They knew "going out" for him meant getting a drink. Sensing his rising anger, they both nodded with some reluctance. "Sure, Seif, if it'll make you feel better," Raijin said. He tried to dispel the tension with a goofy grin.

Seifer didn't bother to reply, he was out of their crummy apartment in swift strides, still soaked. His appearance drew a few curious stares as he made his way through the streets, but anger was an easy shield to use and when he met their stares with his own look of fury, they quickly turned away.

As he ducked into an alley, heading for his usual pub, he became aware of the fact that he was being followed. It might have been years since he'd been a student in Garden, but his training was an inextricable part of him and he could easily tell that someone was trailing him. It was just a question of what he should do that mattered. He considered ducking into another empty alley to confront his stalker.

His thoughts were torn away from the dilemma when he drew near the pub and saw two hulking figures standing by its entrance. There was a third passed out by a potted plant with a pool of vomit at his feet. Seifer knew these men, though that was a term he used loosely, they were his coworkers at the docks though he'd barely spoken a word to any of them.

He slowed his approach, contemplating turning around, but it was too late. The two men had noticed him and straightened, looking very eager to pick a fight. Seifer did his best to remain calm, sizing them both and suppressing a sneer when he saw that they were both obviously drunk.

One of the large men grinned. "Yo," he said, elbowing his partner. "Isn't that... ya know... wasshisname?"

The other man tilted his head as he studied Seifer. "Oh ya. Seifer, innit?"

"Yeah that's his name! Seifer!"

"Went for a dive, Seifer?" the unscarred man asked and cackled at his own joke.

"Something like that," Seifer mumbled.

"Oh wow, can't believe my ears, the high and mighty Seifer actually talkin' to us!" the first man exclaimed.

"Yeah, what's up with that Seifer, too good to talk to us when we're all just there gutting fish?"

"Of course he is," the first man snorted. "Don't think we don't see the way you lookit us, Seifer. Acting like yer shit don't stink."

It took Seifer all of two seconds to decide how he wanted to handle the situation. He was angry and since he couldn't smash dishes to vent his anger, beating two morons into a pulp would have to do. Sure they were bigger than him and could likely cave in his skull if any of their hits connected, but he'd faced bigger and far more dangerous enemies than these thugs. He'd been a knight to one of the most powerful and dangerous sorceresses in all of history.

What ate away at Seifer was what he actually could do as opposed to what he wanted to do. It was his damn common sense that forced him to keep his fists at his side while his ground his teeth hard enough that they ached. He couldn't attack them because there would be consequences. Chances were likely that these two wouldn't remember the ass whooping that he would give them, but there were still witnesses. Granted they were in a section of the city that had very little traffic, but there were still people who wandered through here and already they were gaining a small audience who were eagerly awaiting the ensuing brawl. Eventually they would ask questions, follow him around and try to dig into his past. It wouldn't be hard to make the connection between Seifer the fisherman to Seifer the man wanted in nearly all countries of the world.

He wanted so badly to teach these drunkards a lesson and it was one of the hardest things to do to back down. To bow so easily like a coward that it made bile rise up in his throat. He ducked his head, and looked away, tried to make himself seem small and forced his hands to relax. He heard snickering from the two oafs and fought hard to curb his temper.

"I dun think this boy's got it in him to fight."

The other man shoved his friend away roughly. "Guess he's just a pussy."

The man stumbled and glowered at his partner before stomping right up to him to shove back. Their play fight quickly escalated into an actual fist fight. Seifer sidestepped their scuffle and entered the pub, still tasting that bile.

He ordered his drink at the bar and took it to a dark corner of the room. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and smoke, but no one paid him any mind. All attention had been drawn towards the fist fight outside, which had moved to the middle of the street. Even from where he sat, Seifer could hear their unintelligible shouts and the excited murmur of the crowds that were gathering near the windows to watch. He downed his first drink in seconds, though it did nothing to drown out his bitterness.

A woman slipped into the seat opposite of him just as he ordered another drink from a passing server. Random women approaching him was nothing unusual. There was always some girl who had a little too much to drink that tried too hard to wring a number out of him, completely oblivious to his glares. He lifted his gaze ready to bite out something scathing and paused when he met her cool stare. The woman was completely sober, though she was nursing a beer in one hand. Seifer had a feeling that this person wasn't going to ask for his number.

This was a dangerous woman.

He studied her carefully, there was nothing discernable about her that was putting Seifer on edge. There were no visible weapons and it wasn't possible for her have any hidden since she'd chosen to wear an outfit that was a little on the tight side. In fact Seifer would have categorized those figure hugging clothes she wore as trampy if there weren't about a dozen girls laughing obnoxiously behind her that were decked out in outfits that were far skimpier and tighter.

Seifer kept his gaze hard and inscrutable, but the woman was unfazed by it, allowing herself a small smile as she tilted her head slightly, giving the false appearance of fragile femininity. "That thing out there with the two brutes was sad."

Seifer tightened his grip on his drink. It came as no surprise to him that this woman was his stalker, she had an almost cat like grace to her that would have made it easy for her to follow him in the shadows of the city.

"Why were you following me?" he didn't see the need to beat around the bush.

The woman sighed, and rested her cheek on her hand. "Several reasons, but I'm more curious about that whole affair outside the pub. If my sources are correct, you could have easily made those two a stain on the cement."

Seifer shrugged and noted sourly that his glass was empty again. "I didn't want to fight."

"I think that's a load of crock," the woman murmured. She wore a tight smile. "I know you want to fight me right now, Seifer. I can read it all over you."

"Then maybe you've got me all wrong," he snarled.

"No, actually, I know I'm right," the woman said. "It's kind of a talent of mine, you see, to understand how people feel."

"Oh really," Seifer snorted. "What are you? Some kind of psychologist?" He noted the strangeness of her accent. It was different from any he'd heard before and as someone who could easily brag about having travelled around the world, he'd heard a lot of accents. It was almost similar to an Estharian one, but the enunciation was all wrong.

"Oh yes," the woman said. "I know for a fact that you don't like me and you want me gone."

"That doesn't exactly take a genius to figure out," he retorted. "What do you want?"

"I'm playing delivery girl," the woman said. She reached into her jacket, causing Seifer to stiffen. Seeing his reaction, her smile widened just a bit as she pulled out a thin envelope.

His pulse quickened at the sight of the familiar paper, but made no move to reach for it. The woman laid it on the table and pushed it towards him and raised her eyebrows when he remained still, clutching onto his empty glass. A server came by to collect the empty glasses.

"They'll be on me," the woman told the server, who nodded and left without a word.

Seifer still hadn't reached for the paper, causing the woman to frown. "Aren't you going to open it?"

"No."

"You're not even curious about who it's from?"

"I know who it's from," he said shortly.

"Well, I was told to stick around until you made a reply," the woman said. She rose from her seat and laid several gil on the table, more than enough to pay for the drinks and cover the tip. "But I'm not a fan of disgusting bars so when you've made up your mind I'll find you."

Seifer didn't bother watching the woman depart. She was no doubt around somewhere, watching him from the shadows, but he was past caring. His attention was on the envelope. He had a collection of those letters underneath his bed, though it'd been a while since he'd last read them.

He should just get up and leave the envelope on the table, or better yet, take it and trash it, that would certainly be a fun message for the smug bitch to deliver. In the end, Seifer pulled the envelope close to him and with stiff fingers, opened and read it in the dim lighting of the pub. It was handwritten in blue ink, the penmanship was precise, every letter correctly dotted or crossed. His expression remained neutral when he finished before folding it up and stuffing it inside his coat.

He left the pub, stepping over the unconscious forms of the two drunkards who'd accosted him earlier. As he made his way back to his apartment he became aware of the shadow that followed him, but it was always at a distance. Now that he knew the person and who she worked for he felt no danger at all. His hand slipped into his pocket to finger the edges of the letter.

He swept past the lobby and this time took the elevator, and when he stepped onto his floor his senses were assaulted by that foul stench of decay. He wondered idly if one of his neighbours had a corpse stashed away, it wouldn't surprise him given the tenants in this building, but he'd smelled dead human bodies before and knew its scent and the one that wafted in the hallway was not it.

When Seifer entered his apartment he found the sink repaired, the water mopped up and the floor drying. He felt a twinge of guilt for leaving his friends to clean up his mess. He found the brother and sister seated on their mouldy couch, watching from a television set that was ten years old. The picture occasionally blinked and the colour would turn green at the edges of the screen.

"Hey Seif," Raijin greeted.

"SEIFER," said Fujin.

"Hey," he said, smiling. He glanced at the television and his smile was replaced by a scowl.

Fujin, who was always quick to pick up on his moods, saw his scowl, turned to the TV and realized the reason for his ire. She snatched the remote from her brother and flipped the channel, but the damage was already done. Seifer turned on his heel and headed for his room before she could say a word.

His anger at his friends was misplaced, it was unfair that they were taking the brunt of his frustration. It wasn't their fault that they were here in this run down building that was a fire hazard waiting to happen. Nor were they to blame for the ten hours a day he spent either fishing or gutting fish. This situation they were in was his fault and he knew with guilt that burned in his gut that both Raijin and Fujin were here because they elected to stand by his side.

And that was the crux of it all, he deserved all of this, but his friends didn't. It was unfair that they were being punished for his mistakes. He knew they could easily leave him, go back to Garden and cut all ties from him if they wanted. They could be the glorified heroes that had movies made for them, the saviours of the world who prevented the evil Seifer and his nefarious plots.

No, he was holding them back. He was being selfish and they deserved better. Seifer pulled the letter out of his pocket and reread its contents as an idea started to form in his mind.

* * *

He waited two hours after Fujin retired to her room, she was always the last to bed and he knew that it always took her a while to sleep. When he felt it was safe, he pulled out a sleek black case from under his bed. It was covered in a heavy coat of dust and he hadn't opened it in ages, but just its weight was familiar and reassuring.

He hefted the case and left his room as quietly as he could, old training from Garden helping him with each step. He made it to the door and waited, but neither Fujin nor Raijin stormed out of their rooms. Rajin could sleep through a hurricane, but a mouse skittering through the kitchen could wake Fujin. The challenging part was opening and locking the apartment door without making any noise. He was sure every creak the damn door made would wake his friends, but he managed to lock it shut behind him without alerting either of the siblings. Safe in the hall way, he breathed a sigh of relief, if he made it this far then even Fujin wouldn't grow suspicious of sounds outside their apartment. He took the elevator down again and paused when the door slid open and he found his landlord seated on an easy chair, feet propped up on the front counter as he watched a wrestling match on his beaten mini-tv.

"Seifer!" the pudgy man raised his bottle of beer in greeting. "You're up late."

"So are you," Seifer kept his tone neutral as he stepped out of the elevator. It dinged and slid shut behind him.

"I'm a night owl," the pudgy man said with a shrug.

Seifer realized that the landlord was eyeing his case, which made him tighten his grip on it possessively. Could the man recognize the case? Its design was unique, meant to hold a very specific item, but there was no recognition on the fat man's face, only curiosity underlined with greed.

"What's in the case?"

"Just something that's very important to me," Seifer replied. He paused, the wiser course of action would have been to just leave, but months of resentment suddenly boiled over for a petty need for vengeance. "In fact it's the most valuable possession that I own."

The landlord perked up and gestured for Seifer to come closer. "Then let's see it, kid. If it's so valuable maybe I can get you a good price for it. I know a few dealers who like to collect weird stuff."

"And you would get a share of the profits?"

Too enamoured by the case, the landlord nodded, ignorant to the dangerously cold tone of Seifer's words. "Of course, only fair, right? So what's inside? Can't pawn something if I don't even know what it is."

Seifer weighed his response in his head. To show the old man what was inside the case would seal his fate. It would ruin his miserable existence here in Dollet and force him to flee. It would also mean that his friends would have to leave as well, but he also knew that Raijin and Fujin could create a better life for themselves without him around.

The decision came easily to him. With a grin he placed the case down on the counter and popped open the snaps. He allowed the landlord to open the container, almost laughing when he saw the blood drain out of the man's face.

"Seifer this-" the fat man was still unable to piece together the clues. Seifer decided to give him a hand.

"This is a gunblade," he said as he lifted the weapon out of the case. "I named it Hyperion."

He made a slash, savouring the way it easily cut through the air, the fine metal of the blade singing with each swing. "There aren't a lot of people in the world who can wield a gunblade. It takes years of training to even become competent at using it."

"A gunblade," the man frowned in confusion. "Like that Leonhart character... or like... like..."

Seifer grin was almost wolfish. "Yes?" he prompted. "Like?"

"Like... Seifer."

He nearly laughed as he pointed his blade at the landlord. "Yes, like Seifer. Congratulations, it only took you over a year to figure that out."

The fat man made a sound that was almost like a squeak when Seifer levelled the weapon at his chest. This time Seifer did laugh, letting the gunblade dig a little deeper against the man, though not enough to draw blood, not yet.

"There were a lot of times that I wanted to do this, you know," Seifer muttered.

His former landlord was shaking hard now, of course Seifer wasn't going to do anything drastic, but the man didn't have to know. It was funny at first watching the man squirm, but it didn't take long for Seifer to grow bored. In fact, it was almost pathetic how quickly the landlord fell apart. Snorting, Seifer pulled his gunblade away, hefting it over his shoulder in a familiar stance.

Turning away from the fat man, he picked up his case and strolled out of the building. There was nothing noble about that, the knight he'd always dreamed of being as a child certainly wouldn't have threatened feeble old men, no matter how greedy they were, just to make himself feel like the bigger man. Seifer's stroll slowed to halting steps as he glanced back to see that the landlord was still in his chair.

He stopped when a shadow slinked into the light, moving with the deadly precision of a feline predator. Seifer didn't bother to bring the Hyperion to a ready position since it would have been pointless. This person was here to play delivery girl.

"I'm surprised," the woman said. "You didn't kill the man."

"No point."

The woman's dark eyes turned icy as she stared at the fat man through the door. "I would have. What a waste of space."

"Guess that's why I'm not you," Seifer retorted.

The woman tilted her head, but with a sniff, she turned away from the door. "Then let's go."

Just like that, he would be leaving. The woman walked ahead, undeterred by the darkness. Seifer hesitated as he watched her hips sway, his thoughts turning back to his two friends asleep above him. They would wake up in the morning to find him missing, though it would take another day before they would realize that he was gone for good. Unless the landlord decided to do evict them and call the authorities, but he doubted the man would be able to work up the nerve to do anything, at least for another few days.

"Goodbye," he murmured, too soft for anyone to hear. Adjusting the weight of the Hyperion, he followed the woman into the night. Thoughts racing on the future encounter ahead of him that he was already beginning to dread.

Fujin and Raijin would search his room for anything that would give a hint to his departure. They would probably find the letter he'd ripped to shreds after he'd memorized its contents. It'd been short and concise, expressing disappointment in the way he'd handled his life before moving onto an invitation, extended from a father who'd been absent for far too many years to his fallen and disgraced son.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I'd be amazed if there's anyone still following this fic after how long it took me to get this chapter up. I'm terribly sorry for the delay, but, well, there IS a good reason for why it's taken this long. Without burdening anyone with the details, let's just say some events happened that put everything in my life on hold last December and it's taken me this long to recover.

As for the actual update, yup, a Seifer-centric chapter. I know some people don't like him and I admit I wasn't originally a big Seifer fan either, but I eventually warmed up to him. He'll have a pretty hefty role in the coming chapters and eventually his path will cross with the other characters. Also, apologies to anyone who found Seifer's point of view somewhat offensive, he's definitely making me push the limits of this fic's rating. Ableism, slut-shaming and discrimination all in one chapter!

Big thanks to those who reviewed and to InstigateInsanity once again for his help on certain matters!


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